


Linger

by ivanolix



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Related, Character Study, Gen, POV Female Character, Relationship(s), Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-16
Updated: 2009-04-16
Packaged: 2017-10-22 02:58:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivanolix/pseuds/ivanolix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New Caprica was never over for Kara Thrace in this lifetime; Leoben made sure of that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Linger

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short character piece examining Kara’s thought patterns in selected episodes, and essentially how Leoben destroyed her ability to make rational decisions about love. “Torn” wasn’t the end of her issues, she just managed to hide most of them—though thankfully her destiny eventually forced her to overcome these issues.

Leoben made patience frightening. That would be his last legacy.

Hell came in pretty packages sometimes. She’d forgotten that, gotten used to the gritty and the grimy. The white of the apartment walls bit at her soul, piece by piece, until her mind stretched out to thank Leoben for not copying everything just so, because white was hell and she could live with that. She would thank him silently, though, because it was only an accident that he hadn’t realized how to make her old home hell here.

He’d made it unending, at least. She’d counted on a rescue, counted on Sam getting better, counted on Tigh and Galen if something went wrong. Leoben never said anything, but after a few weeks he started giving her looks of confidence. And she knew, there was no rescue coming. He’d made sure of that; no one was left to come after her. She would be with him until—

There was no out that way either. Resistance no longer made her feel any better, because it didn’t make him feel any worse. Waiting meant something only to her, because time couldn’t matter to a machine. And she couldn’t go deeper, shrewder than him, because he had the simple solution. If she resisted, he’d wait for her to give in. If she gave in, he wouldn’t believe her.

No way out, she knew that now. She wasn’t sure why she kept eating and sleeping and cleaning herself. It might have been months since this began, but she didn’t know. Eventually, more each day, she thought about the only way to live. Not by getting out, but by going in.

She could give him what he wanted. Sleep with him, say the words, keep the house, maybe even smile. Even if he didn’t believe her enough to break the guard, he wouldn’t reject it. And she could close her eyes and let herself join him in the fantasy, maybe find some way to excuse away the hell and live in the imagined, destined, heaven. If she could half convince herself that it would work, surely long enough would convince him all the way.

But she didn’t. It wasn’t a sense of self-worth—that would have been false. She was just afraid that she would forget that it was an act. Swallowing the lingering bitterness, she prepared herself for a hell of resistance and waiting. Gripping the metal chopsticks, she was ready for the action that wouldn’t change anything.

ooo

Sam came to her as Leoben’s hell came crashing around down her shoulders, and she didn’t really notice him until she walked into the next one. It had only been for a few minutes, but already she wasn’t sure what to do with her hands and arms now that they were empty. And Sam smiled at her for her selfless rescue of an innocent child, and she broke somewhere deep inside.

Being in hell with other people didn’t help. She still didn’t see the way out. This time it wasn’t a fake marriage, it wasn’t a fake life, and it wasn’t a fake husband. Except it was, because she wasn’t—she wasn’t real like that. Nothing was real in hell.

And Sam waited for her. She couldn’t wait him away either, there was still no way out. He couldn’t be standing outside of hell, waiting for her to come and join him. No, he was in the thick of it, maybe accepting that they’d never be out and waiting for her to give up and stay too.

This time, it was worse. She wouldn’t give him what he wanted, and he’d just wait patiently, just like she’d always wanted—and hated now. And if she gave in, stopped resisting, she might remember that they’d been happy once and accept that they were forever stuck in hell. Maybe he could be content if she was in his hell, but she wasn’t going near that line again. She wasn’t going to let herself be reminded of Leoben in her life. There was a way out of this hell, but love had nothing to do with it.

Sam might wait forever for her, but he could stay and she would go. It didn’t count if he wasn’t there. It wasn’t hurting them both if they were apart. And she wouldn’t be tempted to give in, look for love in hell. Escape first. Mission first.

And maybe by then she could excise Leoben’s face, scrub it away so that all that he wanted no longer stood for hell in her mind. Maybe someday wanting love wouldn’t feel like surrender.

ooo

She thought Lee wasn’t going to wait at all. She thought she’d waited out all his patience long ago. He was safe from her, and she was safe from him.

But he was too good at pretend, at fantasy. Better than Sam; not as good as Leoben. He made it look as if he didn’t care, but there he always was. Always. Waiting, even if it seemed to be just to watch her fall, but wanting her to rise again.

She could only rise to purgatory. Heaven far above, hell flames still licking at her heels. She tried out Sam again, and he was still waiting, and this time making it clear. Nothing was better, and she sent him away again. She had been right, it was easier to live with the waiting when she wasn’t a part of it.

And there was Lee, waiting the farthest way away. She misunderstood herself, thought it would be best to push him so far that he wasn’t waiting at all. But in the thick of things, with violence taking the place of words, she realized that she had grown to need the waiting. Patience was all she understood anymore. And maybe, if it didn’t get too close, she could live with it too. She stopped short.

Somewhere in all the mix there was love and loyalty, and somewhere she knew who she wanted to give it to, but that was for a better world. In this one, she had to break the cycle. Lee might see their trysts as stepping stones for the next big jump, but all she wanted was to keep the waiting on pause. Reach for it all now, use simple pleasure to dull the fear that he would just be waiting for her next move.

She didn’t have a next move. It was more frightening than all of them waiting, because maybe if she had one she could end it, drive them away for good so that she could make her own moves without the pressure or the watching. And it frightened her to know that she didn’t know how to do that. She didn’t know how to make them hate her, make them finally leave her alone.

Leoben had made unchanging love terrifying.

But in the end, he wasn’t there, and Lee had other troubles, and Sam—she was afraid that he would never leave her, and afraid that he would. But she needed the waiting, and someday the fear might disappear. So she let him in, and vowed to herself that it wasn’t surrender.  



End file.
